


Best friends

by Fanficologist



Category: Parahumans Series - Wildbow
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-25 05:01:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21970318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fanficologist/pseuds/Fanficologist
Summary: "Emma, wake up." “It’s not good to sleep so much during the day, you know?”
Comments: 3
Kudos: 9





	Best friends

There were few places she hated more than this. The walls were painted a dull white like there was a thin layer of dust that no-one ever cared to wipe away. The hallways felt stuffy with thick glass panels that never opened and a pervasive smell of antiseptic that hung in the air and prickled her nose. Stepping through the automated doors felt like entering a different world deprived of all colors and happiness, and the sky turned a depressing gray or blue through the tinted windows.  
  
Yet she was here for a purpose, and that only that thought kept her from walking out and never looking back. Taylor took in a deep breath, fixed the straps of the backpack on her should her one more time, and stepped forward.  
  
Twenty steps to the elevator. The main paid no heed when he bumped her shoulder on the way out.  
  
She felt a brief sensation of dizziness. The mechanical voice announced the floor she was supposed to go.  
  
The metal doors slid open. Taylor ignored a woman's grumblings as she wriggled her way out of the overcrowded space.  
  
It had become an automated process at this point. It helped her ignore all the unsettling things that caught her eyes on the way and numbed whatever inadvertent feelings they elicited.  
  
The winding hallway that looped into a full circle. The rooms on the left with rows of sickbeds with people tossing and turning in their sleep or staring at the dull white ceiling and counting the waterdrop in their IV bag. The glass wall on the right looking at the empty space in the center of the building, with the sun casting rays of filtered blue light onto the floor.  
  
Was it actually relaxing for people to sit in the small flower garden below, or would they also feel like they were trapped at the bottom of a well, looking helplessly at the tiny patch of sky above?  
  
407\. The brass plate above the wooden door stared at her. It was a single patient with facilities closer to that of a small apartment than a hospital room, the kind of room people with money could stay at and enjoy much better care and treatment.  
  
Taylor shook her head. Now was not the time for such thoughts. She slowly reached out and turned the doorknob while fixing what she hoped was a cheerful smile on her face.  
  
Tick tock tick tock went the mechanical alarm clock on the dresser. The same one she had given Emma’s as a birthday present.  
  
Emma’s room was silent, as it had been yesterday and the day before that. The glass door to the balcony was left ajar, the permanently closed curtain blew slightly in the light breeze. Light spilled through the fabric’s edge onto the floor yet never reached the foot of the bed. She had insisted on keeping it open for air circulation even though the room had an AC unit installed. Emma had always complained about air-conditioners. She rarely used the one in her room at home and never left the temperature below 28 degrees if she ever did. Any colder and she would spot a runny nose in the morning. Emma had always had weirdly mundane preferences like that despite coming from a pretty well-off family.  
  
Emma herself was laid on the white bed; a bleached sheet covered her whole body to just below the chin. She was sleeping, just like any other time, she had come to visit. The doctor had said Emma’s condition was normal and she was due for release soon, but Taylor wondered if she would ever be the same Emma ever again. Would they be able to go to Winslow together as they had promised? Would she ever be dragged by her best friend to the mall for cloth shoppings, giggle together while making weird mixtures of ice cream flavors, or collect odd trinkets during summer camp ever again?  
  
Or would she spend her days like this, drifting between the border of dreams and wakefulness?  
  
Well, it couldn’t be helped at this point. She sat down on the high stool beside the bed, taking off the backpack and propped it against the dresser in the process.  
  
“Hey, Emma. It’s me, Taylor”  
  
No response.  
  
“Emma, wake up.” She said, placing her hand on her shoulder over the sheet. “It’s not good to sleep so much during the day, you know?”  
  
A soft groan. As best a response as she could ever get. Maybe it was for the best, leaving Emma to enjoy the peace inside her own mind rather the facing the waking nightmares of realities. Maybe it would be better for everyone involved that Emma never opened her eyes again. Blissful ignorance and all that. But sometimes it felt too much like making trips to visit her mother’s grave, and she hated herself for having such thoughts.  
  
The sound of door opening jolted Taylor from her musings. A nurse walked in with a notepad in one hand and pen spinning between fingers in another. She proceeded to walk straight towards Emma’s bed, making no indication of acknowledging my presence. I didn’t give a word of greetings. We both knew our reasons for entering this room. We both knew we wish to be anywhere but here. It was much better to get things done with as little fanfare as possible.  
  
The nurse shook Emma's shoulder, calling her to wake up and take her medication. I was painfully made aware of the white bottles on the top shelf of the dresser. Dozen of multi-colored pills so much like Skittles candies. Too bad we cold not pour them all out and rearrange them into piles of different colors. It was another of Emma’s favorite game, buying dozen of cheap Skittle packs and pouring them all out in a large bowl. We would sort them into neat piles and eat them while browsing the movie library on her internet TV and watch whatever caught our interest. Too bad indeed.  
  
Emma slowly pushed the white sheet down while rubbing her eyes. Emma was never a graceful person as she woke up. It’s not like she had bed hair or anything; Emma strangely always had her hair in a neat fashion with nary a strand out of place. The problem was she would always act like an automaton every time she woke up; performing her daily rituals without cracking her eyes open and usually would have no collection of those activities afterward. It was sort of funny to see her brushing her teeth with stickers or chocolate smears on her cheeks from late girl sleep-over night.  
  
You would be advised to let her wake up normally from that state though.  
  
*CRASH*  
  
Emma could get surprisingly grumpy when woken prematurely.  
  
Taylor watched as her life-long friends swiped the fruit knife on the table and plunged it directly into the nurse’s left eye. The woman screamed and fell onto the floor. Each thrashing was paired with a scratching screech of pain. Emma looked at the bloody knife on her hand then to Taylor.  
  
Empty, void, lifeless, dejected. Taylor was ashamed to admit that none of the literary talents she inherited from her mother could help her find a concise word to describe. It was tired with a glint of mania, defeated yet tainted with euphoria. Full of regret.  
  
The corner of her mouth lifted into a smile, yet her eyes stayed the same. It was like taking two pictures of the same person, cutting their head in half and gluing two different parts together. Emma used to do that. They would find beautiful pictures in newspapers or on carton boxes and cut them to pieces, making their own puzzle sets. She wasn’t very good at the game though, and would often claim that Taylor was so good at the game ‘because you are such a nerd’.  
  
She wanted to say something. Anything. She haven’t heard Emma's voice in such a long time. But she couldn’t open my mouth. What could she even say? A cheeky greeting? A word of comfort? An assurance that everything was going to be alright? Nothing was going to be alright. Nothing could ever be alright again, not with all the shits Emma had gone through. Everything was all fucked up after that night. The night in the alleys.  
  
The door busted open and a girl bodily fell in, having been trying to push in with all her weight.  
  
A tall, stick-thin girl with long, curly black hair. Her goofy round glasses gave her the appearance of an owl – something that had made Emma wonder once if Anne purposefully chose the pair to fit her pet name. Taylor stared as the girl tried to pick herself up from the floor.  
  
“Emma are you okay? My dad drove me here as soon as I got back!”  
  
Sisters forever. Always by each other's side.  
  
Late. Moments too late. All lies. Stay away. Please. Couldn’t stop.  
  
KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL  
  
With deft movements that she had never performed, Taylor stopped knife in Emma’s hand attempting to stab the girl.  
  
In the abdomen. In the throat. In the heart. In the eyes.  
  
The knife phased through her hand and sheathed itself inside her chest. Her body flickered like smokes of the candles on a birthday cake. Emma screamed. Screamed and screamed and cried. The girl looked at the scene with uncomprehending horror.  
  
Emma screamed and white flame burst from her body. Eyes. Nose. Ears. Pick one and he would do to town on the part. It hurt. It hurt. She didn’t want to die. She wanted to hang out with *@!##. She wanted to make 4*9@# a list of potential boyfriends and take her on double dates. She wanted to take the prospective boy out a corner while nU*@j was distracted and threaten to do horrible things to his unmentionables should he hurt her feelings. Emma screamed.  
  
The world burned a blinding hot white.  
  


\----------*****----------

  
Taylor woke up.  
Taylor woke up.  
  
She was anxious.  
She was anxious.  
  
Today she would meet Emma again after Summer camp.  
Today she would go visit Emma in the hospital.  
  
She was worried.  
She was worried.  
  
But it was okay. Emma was a strong girl. She just had to be there for her no matter what happened.  
But it was okay. Emma was a strong girl. She just had to be there for her no matter what.  
  
 **BECAUSE THEY ARE BEST FRIENDS FOREVER.**


End file.
